


Transparency

by kopycat_101



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Autism, Backstory, Both Luka and Juleka have complicated feelings over their Mom, Character Study, Coming Out, Complicated Relationships, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, Family, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Gen, Good Older Sibling Luka Couffaine, Good Sibling Juleka Couffaine, Growing Up, Jagged Stone isn't their Dad in this because Anarka is Too Cool For Him, Juleka Couffaine has Anxiety, Juleka Couffaine has Autism, Juleka and Luka are WLW/MLM solidarity and that's Canon, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Juleka Couffaine, Luka Couffaine has ADHD, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, Multi, Music, POV Alternating, POV Juleka Couffaine, POV Lesbian Character, POV Luka Couffaine, Pansexual Character, Pansexual Luka Couffaine, Pining, Protective Luka Couffaine, Protective Older Brothers, Protective Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Siblings, Single Parents, Teen Angst, Teenage Dorks, Teenagers, The main fic is family dynamics, The ships are only bg/mentioned, This fic is just all my Couffaine family headcanons, Useless Lesbians, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopycat_101/pseuds/kopycat_101
Summary: Luka and Juleka come out of the closet.(An apparently very thin, very transparent closet, but a closet nonetheless.)A story about two siblings, the complications of family, standing strong in the face of hardship, bonding, and supporting one another no matter what life throws at you. Told in three parts/three days.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Anarka Couffaine & Juleka Couffaine & Luka Couffaine, Juleka Couffaine & Luka Couffaine, Juleka Couffaine & Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 108





	1. Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Another fic here for MLPrideMonth and pride month in general!
> 
> However, this fic is more about family dynamics and coming out than outright romance.   
> I think the Couffaine family is incredibly interesting, but we don't really see them actually interacting much other than surface-level in the actual show. Here, I tried to flesh them out a bit more.
> 
> This fic was originally intended to just be a one-shot.   
> But like usual, I've gone off the handle and written much more. This is over 11k and I'm not even done writing! So I'm splitting this up into three chapters.

* * *

Luka sits on his bed idly strumming on his guitar, humming a few bars. His guitar was balanced on his crossed legs, notebook open and spread out on the duvet next to him.

It is, no doubt, a familiar sight to all that know him. Luka _does_ practice with his guitar often, and also tends to take to his bed to practice.

This time, he was working on a new piece—already had the lyrics written up and everything—but he needed to find a proper melody first. He knew the general vibe he wanted, but wasn’t exactly sure how to get the specifics down just yet.

He thought he’d start simple. Acoustic guitar always made good base tracks to work with, especially with fledgling song ideas. And if he still couldn’t get it, he could move onto his keyboard and fiddle around with a few arrangements, or even move straight onto electric guitar.

Music was a long and meandering process, sometimes. Other times, it was like a lightning strike, sudden and electric.

Ironically, Luka was somewhere in the middle with this one song. He’d written the lyrics in a fit of inspiration, just plopped himself down and wrote it in one session. A song about longing and blooming feelings and bright eyes. But the actual musical accompaniment was taking longer, hard to grasp, sand sifting through his fingers.

He wasn’t going to let it bother him much, though. If he works enough on it, he’ll figure it out. Patience was a virtue, after all. Not to mention, he had the weekend ahead to make progress on it. It’ll be the most free time he’ll have.

A long sigh cuts through the air, and Luka pauses in his strumming to peer over at his sister at the other side of their shared room.

Juleka was sprawled out spread-eagle on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Though maybe it was more like she was glaring, as if the very architecture of The Liberty had done her a great wrong.

He could all but hear the frustration and longing through her sigh. Could hear the discord there that’s emerged in her heart song. It makes him frown, just a bit.

Luka went back to strumming, a bit quieter and more listless, more habit than anything to keep his hands moving. Thoughts of his newest song were promptly shoved to the back of his mind, alongside the blooming and festering lovesickness he’s had as of late, replaced instead by growing concern for his little sister.

It was a familiar feeling, this protective worry, sliding comfortably over his shoulders like a well-worn coat.

As the older sibling, Luka’s always looked after Juleka. Hell, he pretty much half-raised her himself, what with Anarka busy working for…well, as long as he can remember. For most of their lives, probably.

Luka’s fingers stop suddenly, the last note coming out reedy and out of tune, as Juleka lets out a loud groan and buries her face in her hands. Hm. This seems like it’ll be a… _delicate_ situation to handle.

Luka carefully sets his guitar on the floor, propped up against his bed. “Jules…?” he calls out, calm and careful and open-ended. It was never good to crowd Juleka or push an issue too brashly. His sister was a shy and sensitive soul. She didn’t do well with conflict or speaking at the best of times.

Juleka gives him a reply, but it’s muffled and grumbled through her fingers. He can hear her heart song tremble alongside seeing her shoulders do the same.

“Do you want me to go over to you, or the other way around?” he asks her patiently, waiting on his bed, foot bouncing to burn off his restless energy.

He’s sure other teenagers would find sharing a room with their sibling as inconvenient and annoying, especially if a guy had to share with their little sister. While the lack of privacy wasn’t exactly something either of them enjoyed, as well as the lack of space for all their shit accumulated over the years, it wasn’t _all_ bad.

They’d pretty much gotten used to it, considering they’ve roomed for so long. Their bedroom was the biggest, nearly the size of the living room, so they each clearly had their own space without much crossover. If either one needed to borrow something from the other, they could just ask and borrow it then and there, without much fuss.

They both co-existed well together, really. Since they went to Dupont together—at least, for another semester yet, as it was his last year before moving on to secondary school—they had their morning routines down to a science.

Luka always set the alarm for seven fifteen and woke up a half-hour earlier to make a fresh pot of coffee and get started on breakfast. If he happened to accidentally sleep in, either the alarm or Juleka herself will shake him awake to get ready for school. He’d always get to the bathroom first to shower at the speed of light, change, and brush his hair, before letting Juleka hog the space, as her morning routine was a bit more extensive.

Sharing a room also cut down on his response time, for sure. Pretty much the _instant_ Juleka had a problem, he was there, ready to help her.

No matter the time of day, either. It could be the dead of night, even. And the second Jules would lightly touch his shoulder, tentative and nervous to wake him, he’d jolt up fully awake and ask her what’s wrong. Sometimes, he would even wake up on instinct alone, whenever Juleka had a nightmare, before she could even rouse herself to flee to his arms for comfort.

He was attuned to her emotions to a degree that most siblings probably couldn’t replicate, or even understand. But it was his duty to do so, to know how to be there for her.

This is all a very long-winded and complicated way to say this: Luka knows his sister well. Very well. He knows when and how to comfort her, knows how to walk the delicate tightrope of giving her the space she needs while being there for her to rely on. If the need ever arose, he could literally teach a class on the hows and whys of Juleka Couffaine, to the letter.

So he knows that when she starts to bury her face in her hands, she’s overwhelmed by something and needs to vent to someone.

* * *

The seconds stretch out, long and quiet and with a slight underlying tension, before Juleka lets out another gusty sigh.

Luka watches her carefully, already dropping one of his feet on the floor, half-ready to jump up and go to her side if she requests it of him. But instead, she slowly drawls out, “Your bed…?”

“Sure thing, Jules! It’s open and ready whenever you are!” he tells her, bright and encouraging. He quickly reaches out, fumbling for his notebook next to him, closing it and setting it alongside his guitar. He pats the duvet next to him invitingly, grinning toothily as Juleka all but throws herself on his bed with an appreciative grunt.

He waits while she makes herself comfortable, offering his wrist to her in case she needed a rubber band to tie up her hair or wanted to grab his hand to anchor herself. She does the latter, but not before spitting out a section of her hair that landed in her mouth and forcing her long bangs behind her ear.

“So…? What’s up, Jules?” Luka asks, rubbing his thumb across her hand soothingly. Instead of it relaxing her, the grip on his hand tightens.

Without much more preamble, Juleka’s leaning in and burying her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder. He has just enough foresight to tilt his head up, so he won’t get a mouthful of her hair on accident, frowning a bit at how quickly Juleka jumped into needing one of his hugs.

Not that he was _complaining_ that she needed him for a hug, but the issue must be bothering her quite a bit if she’s jumping straight into seeking physical comfort.

“Jules…?” he asks her quietly, carefully threading the fingers of his unoccupied hand through her hair when he feels her _shake_ against him, tension tight against her shoulders.

She mumbles something against his neck, low and indecipherable. He breathes evenly and considers the odds of him upsetting her more by asking her to speak up, knowing it’s something she hated.

But…He thinks finding out what has her upset might take precedence, just a bit. Just so he can figure out what’s wrong to start with, and quickly go from there.

So he squeezes her hand back, and pats her head, and asks evenly and sympathetically, “Could you speak up, sis? I can’t help you if I can’t hear you.”

There’s a slight pause. Juleka somehow manages to tense up even further, and Luka nearly hisses through his teeth at causing her more distress, instantly wanting to backpedal. But she ends up relaxing all on her own, bit by bit.

She’s nearly deadweight in his arms, by the time she answers. “I…I think. No,” she starts, shaking her head against his neck. “I _know_. I know I…like Rose.”

Luka takes in a sharp breath, surprised by her boldness, though he really shouldn’t. His little sister was pretty blunt about certain things, like saying if she disliked something. She also never hid the fact that she liked and appreciated her friends.

But the way she’s spoken, she doesn’t mean she likes Rose in merely a platonic way.

“Just Rose?” he asks her, feeling her tense up against him in the silence it’s taken him to find a decent answer. “And for how long have you known?”

Juleka hums, noncommittal. But she shifts, pulling away from his embrace. He lets her, watching her carefully as she leans back enough to look him in the eyes, still clutching tightly at his hand.

“I…I’ve liked girls before,” she confesses quietly, but her eye contact doesn’t waver and she doesn’t try to hide behind her hair. “But…Never one like Rose.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything else, if you don’t want to,” Luka starts, firm in giving her the choice for further privacy. “ _But_ if you’d like to tell me anything else, I’d be happy to listen. You can tell me anything, Jules, you know that.”

His sister nods. “I know.” She tilts her head, looking back at him, considering. Like a little songbird. “I’m a lesbian. And a very useless lesbian, apparently.”

“You’re not useless,” he refutes her on instinct alone, as he tends to be the one to shoo her doubts away and act as her hype man. He goes on, quite diplomatically and encouraging, “Crushing on your best friend is a hard situation in general.”

No hesitation, and no need to think about it.

So, his baby sister was a lesbian…? That’s cool. It was nice to know they had another thing in common; both apparently being as gay as they are.

Juleka snorts, and the edges of her lips are titled in a small grin. “Only _you’d_ protect my honor against myself, Lu.”

“One of the benefits of having me as your older brother, Jules,” he smiles back at her, deciding to use a bit of humor to bring some much-needed levity to the heavy discussion. “Alongside nice hugs, sweet lullabies, making your favorite foods for dinner, and being just as gay as you.”

Juleka blinks back at him slowly, copper eyes wide and suspiciously shiny. “You…really?” she asks, voice a near whisper. Hopeful.

“Really really,” he says with a nod. “Cross my heart.” He makes the familiar motion, watching as she chuckles warmly at their old routine since early childhood.

“So I _wasn’t_ hallucinating…?” she starts, voice now teasing and eyes gleaming mischievously. “You really _do_ get crushes on just about everyone?”

“Hey,” he starts jokingly, “don’t call me out like this, sis.” This spurs a delighted giggle from Juleka. His heart feels like it expands in his chest, overwhelmingly fond. “I don’t get a crush on _everyone_ …”

“You literally gave Marinette, Adrien, and Kagami heart eyes the _first_ time you met each of them,” she deadpans, raising a brow at him pointedly. “And you haven’t stopped since.”

Luka sputters and nearly chokes on his spit, flustered and feeling like the rug’s been pulled straight up from under his feet. He pounds on his chest to calm his coughing fit down, while Juleka just smirks at him like the cat that’s got the cream, leaning back and crossing her legs like she owned the universe.

The only drawback of hyping up Juleka and helping her with her confidence issues? She gets very cheeky with him and isn’t afraid to give him shit.

“I…I haven’t…” he manages to stutter out, face feeling like it was on fire, and trying _very_ hard not to avert his eyes. In the Couffaine house, averting your gaze was a sign of submission or guilt, as their mother prized firm eye contact.

Also, one of Luka’s tics was wildly darting his eyes away when he felt guilty. Anyone who knew him at least semi-well knows this fact about him. And considering she was his sister, Juleka knew him the best of all. He was like an open book to her.

“I d-don’t give _heart eyes_ , that’s…” he trails off, laughing nervously, his voice instantly jumping up an octave. Damn it. “That’s not a _thing_.”

“Mhmmm,” Juleka hums, still leaning back to survey him, smirking. And most _definitely_ enjoying watching him flounder. “Right. _Sure_.”

“I _don’t_ ,” he presses in a hiss, hands clenched on his knees.

His sister simply shoots him another pointed Look. “You’ve written five love songs in the past three weeks alone,” she tells him flatly.

Luka opens his mouth to retort, before stalling as he counts the songs in his head and…realizes…she’s actually right.

“I, uh…May have…actually wrote a new one, too,” he hedges, voice a squeak.

“That _absolutely_ proves my point,” she states, pointing a condemning finger at his guitar. “ _Six_ whole love songs, Lu. In three weeks. You’re averaging two per week here, buddy.”

She then pats his shoulder in patronizing consolation when he lets out an embarrassed groan.

It’s Luka’s turn to bury his face in his hands, apparently, the roles somehow firmly reversed. “Am I…really _that_ obvious?”

“You’re so obvious, even blind people could see it,” she deadpans, snorting out a laugh as he blindly tries to swat at her. “Shit, Lu—”

“Language,” he mutters through his fingers, an automatic chiding.

“—soon enough you’ll have written enough love songs to make a whole album. _Apiece_ , for _each_ of them.”

“ _Please_ stop roasting me.”

“I’ll stop roasting you when you stop being a disaster about it,” she states flatly with absolutely no mercy.

“Weren’t _you_ the one with girl problems? Why don’t we talk about that?” he asks, just a bit desperately, popping his head up from the previously safe confines of his hands. “I think we should talk about that.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” she refutes, instantly levelling a finger at his face. “ _I’m_ only crushing on one person. _You’re_ juggling three, you loon.”

“I also haven’t created a series of mixtapes for my crushes,” he shoots back, feeling a little thrill of smugness at his sister instantly flushing pink.

“Fuck off,” she hisses, shoving at his shoulder. “You’re literally writing songs about them! That’s even worse!”

“Is it really?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she stresses, glaring. “And don’t pull that ‘not making mixtapes’ bullshit on me—”

“ _Language_ , Jules—”

“—when you’ve literally made them personal ones already,” she says with a dramatic eyeroll. “So pot, meet kettle. Or in this case, disaster bisexual, meeting useless lesbian.”

“I’m pansexual, actually,” he interjects, with forced levity, “but Go Off, I guess.”

Juleka blinks back at him, obviously taken aback, but she recovers quickly. “Fine. Disaster pansexual.”

“Y’know, that doesn’t exactly _sound_ right. It just doesn’t flow as well…”

“Maybe we can workshop it?”

“Yeah, sure, we’ll workshop it later,” he says lightly with a shrug, almost baffled at how completely _blasé_ him coming out to his sister had ended up being, in the end.

He…hadn’t exactly thought the conversation would go like this, in this direction. He’d envisioned the scenario countless times, from the quick and light ‘Hey, I’m pan, that cool? Cool’ to dramatic revulsion fit for a daytime drama soap opera.

What ended up happening… wasn’t exactly something he’d ever considered.

Apparently, Juleka was thinking the same thing, because she went into a similar state of quiet and off-kilter pensiveness.

“Y’know…You being pan makes a lot of sense, actually,” his sister ends up saying, surveying him.

“Same with you being a lesbian,” he admits, also surveying her in kind.

“…Well, damn, we really _are_ gay as hell, huh?” she asks. Luka doesn’t even have it in him to tell her to watch her language, because…yeah. Yeah, that was accurate.

“Thank fuck,” he nods solemnly, smiling wide at Juleka’s answering laughter.

* * *

Juleka talks with Luka for the rest of the evening, and into the night, too.

It’s like a floodgate’s opened, officially coming out to each other. They pretty much knew everything about each other _before_ , but with this new revelation, a piece they hadn’t realized had been missing just seemed to _click_ into place.

It all made sense, suddenly. The little things, that had no explanation before, that she’d just written off as her brother’s slight quirks.

Luka’s bold declarations of marrying Gerard Way when he was still in elementary school. His starry-eyed devotion to Jagged Stone, wherein for a solid six months he’d stare dreamily at his posters for minutes on end with a puppy-dog look on his face. His perfectionist tendencies when it came to making mixtapes for his friends-slash-secret-crushes that rivaled Juleka’s with how she meticulously created mixtapes for Rose.

Luka getting riled up about Valentine’s Day every year, insisting that he give all his classmates and friends cards, and coming back home either elated or dejected depending on if people accepted his gifts. The slew of names he doodled across his notebooks’ pages in hearts, like a merry-go-round or a lottery, a constant-changing thing that had no pattern between boys or girls. The evolving ‘lucky charm’ crises, where depending on what so-and-so classmate said looked good on him, was suddenly Luka’s go-to outfit or accessory he always had on him.

Hell, Luka had no qualms with watching any and all movies with her and Mom, barely absorbing any of them because he would just daydream over whichever actors he found the cutest.

“Have you never actually paid attention to _any_ movie we’ve watched, _ever_ …?” she demands, after his last confession to her.

Luka flushes, looking offended. “O-Of course I have! I know the Harry Potter films by heart!”

“Alright, sure. But can you name any characters from the Twilight series?”

“Uh, duh. There’s Bella and Edward and Jacob.”

“Past the three literal main characters, Lu.”

“And the Cullens. And the werewolves. And the Volturi…?”

Juleka has to bite on her tongue in order to not go on a twenty-minute rant-slash-spiel about the vast cast of Twilight characters. She had to focus. She was roasting her brother, first and foremost, and that was _always_ most important.

“…Do you actually know specific names, or do you just think of them as ‘the hot vampires’ and ‘the hot werewolves’?” she asks dryly after a few incredulous seconds, just to watch him sweat.

After a pause—one longer than it really should be— he answers weakly, “Yes?”

“Oh my _God_ , Luka.”

“Listen! Listen,” he says, bringing his hands up. “In my defense? There’s a lot of characters.”

She glares at him narrowly. “There’s a lot of characters in the Harry Potter series too, you hypocrite.”

“…You know what? Fair.”

* * *

Juleka and Luka talk so much and so far into the night, they’re exhausted afterwards. With great reluctance and heavy yawns, they get ready for bed and turn in.

Thankfully, the next day is Saturday, so they don’t even have to wake up early.

Even their mother sleeps in on the weekends, especially as of late. And that woman literally rises with the sun, because she’s insane like that.

Something, something, pirates always have to wake up at the crack o’ dawn to start the day. It was stupidly corny and cheesy, but, well. That was Anarka Couffaine for you.

When Juleka drifts off to sleep, all she feels is warmth, a smile dancing on her lips.

* * *


	2. Reclaim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter posted in the last day of Pride month! Nice.
> 
> I'm afraid this fic isn't fully written just yet, so the last chapter will come a little later. But still, I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Feeling like a zombie, Juleka lets out a long and fierce yawn, jaw cracking, when Luka shakes her awake.

“W’ time’s it?” she slurs out, blinking and rubbing at her eyes.

“It’s eleven,” is her brother’s dry, amused response.

“Why does it feel so _early_ then…?” she huffs, voice near a whine.

“It’s because we stayed up late, Jules,” Luka chuckles—a yawn piercing through his laughter. “Urgh. It feels so _weird_ waking up so late…”

Juleka blinks, almost feeling like she’s misheard him. “Well, damn. That’s a first for you.”

“I know,” he sighs, smiling awkwardly. “Anyways, up and attem. You’re probably starving, right?”

“Eh…Yeah, maybe.”

“Let’s see what we can find for breakfast, then.”

* * *

The siblings stumble up from their room to the living room, squinting at the bright, natural light streaming into The Liberty.

Juleka didn’t even bother with brushing her hair. Or changing out of her pjs.

Luka took a shower and changed into something loose and casual, but his hair was dripping wet and uncombed, looking like a drowned skunk or something. He was clapping his cheeks to wake up properly, even after his shower.

Their Mom is mildly confused by the two of them waking up nearly at the same time as her, dragging themselves to the kitchen to face the day close to noon. Usually, Luka is punctual and active even on his days off, having food ready for everyone.

“Ya look beat, kiddos! Didja turn in late?” Anarka asks, adjusting her glasses to stare them down as she leans against the kitchen counter. Luka just shrugs awkwardly in return, giving a sheepish smile. Mom laughs, slapping him on the back. “C’mon, let’s fish up somethin’ to eat.”

The three of them manage to cobble together something vaguely resembling breakfast. Or maybe it’s brunch, considering it’s noon by the time they all sit down to eat.

Regardless, Anarka’s booming voice and enthusiasm at the table is like a spike through Juleka’s ears. But really, what else was new?

“We’ll be in our room if you need us, Ma,” Luka says, swift and diplomatic, clearly very attuned to Juleka’s rising irritation. He shoos her off slightly away from the table, before swooping in to gather their used plates with practiced ease, depositing them in the sink to wash later. “You should probably get a start on the bills.”

Anarka lets out a long and gusty sigh. “I know, I know,” she all but whines, taking off her glasses to rub at her eyes with a groan. “Can’t ever get a proper day off, eh?”

“Yeah, well, the bills never stop,” Luka says lightly and cheerily. Juleka snorts in mild disgust at him blatantly babying their mother, who’s been literally paying their bills for over a decade, so shouldn’t she be used to it…?

Luka shoots Juleka an exasperated look, while Mom isn’t looking, turning back to smile and kiss the woman on the temple like a total mama’s boy. “Just worry about the bills for now. We can all figure out dinner later.”

“Aye, we can,” Anarka nods, straightening from her previously slumped position and shooting Luka a finger salute. “I’ll get right on it, kiddos! It’s a Saturday! So go on and get, go and enjoy yerselves!”

The resulting loud and booming laugh makes Juleka almost want to clap her hands over her ears, but she knows it’ll be taking it a bit too far if she does that. So instead, she rolls her eyes hard with a sigh, and lets her much more patient older brother extract her from the kitchen and bustle her to their shared room.

“Jules, it’s Saturday…” Luka says, half-chiding and half-pleading. “We didn’t even have to wake up early today.”

“She’s still _way_ too loud…” Juleka mutters in reply, definitely-not-pouting. “Where the hell she gets her energy from, I don’t even know…”

“How about we worry about our music?” Luka deflects, with a slightly strained smile, and guilt instantly wallops Juleka in the chest. And is then instantly gone with his next, somewhat teasing statement of, “Or maybe you want some advice from your amazing older brother about proper mixtape techniques?”

“I already know how to make a good mixtape, Lu,” she snipes back, but lets him drag her over to her side of the room, zeroing in on her purple laptop. “You should be the one asking _me_ for advice here, lover boy.”

“I don’t—”

“After all, you have _three_ different mixtapes to make,” she points out, grinning sharply as he groans at the reminder.

“Why. Why are you like this.” It’s a bemoaning statement instead of an actual question.

“Because I’m your darling little sister,” she drawls out, smirking. “And you’re just a panicked pansexual.”

“Ooh!” her brother perks up, snapping his fingers, eyes sparkling. “Panicked pansexual? I like that!”

“You wanna workshop it more or—”

“Nah, I actually think that’s pretty good! And, like, we can even sort of tie it in to Panic! at the Disco, if we wanted? So, really, it’s perfect.”

“You know what? Point. Panicked pansexual it is,” she nods, matching her brother’s high-five, shaking her head with fond exasperation. “You gonna market that at some point or…?”

“I mean, you never know,” Luka says mysteriously, instead of actually answering, but she lets it slide. “Now, let’s get some music going, my lovestruck lesbian baby sister.”

“Are we going to market _that_ too?” Juleka snorts out, amused in spite of herself.

“I dunno, Jules. You tell me,” Luka says, once more mysterious, but mostly joking.

“Eh, I’ll think about it.”

They grin at each other, completely on the same wavelength.

Luka all but runs over to his side of the room to snatch up his guitar, sitting on Juleka’s bed as she brings her laptop over, balancing it on her thigh. He looks like he’s itching to strum his guitar and workshop a song then and there, even if he was going to put all his attention towards looking over Juleka’s shoulder to critique her mixtape-making skills.

But it’s fine. Juleka knows her brother can never keep his hands still because of his ADHD. He can strum his guitar however much he wants.

The way Luka made sound was never…grating to her. Not like how Mom always seemed so loud and bombastic, constantly making a racket.

Luka’s sound was…quiet without being quiet. Calm, really. Even when they got together for band practice, Luka’s sound was steady and purposeful and pleasant. Kitty Section’s music, while considered rock or metal, wasn’t at all a bother to Juleka’s weird sensibilities, either.

It was just another of Juleka’s odd quirks, really, that she’s learned to live with. Alongside her crippling anxiety and stage fright. And her adoration of monsters and all things creepy, most especially vampires. And the fact that she loved the texture of lace, so she wore outfits with lace parts whenever possible. And that she really likes to grab and fiddle with her hair, which is why she keeps it as long as she does, even if it’s a pain to maintain.

Alright, so she was weird. She knows this. Luka knows this. Rose knows this. Even Mom knows this. And somehow, none of them really…care. Even if she’s sure she’s considered a freak or the ‘weird girl’ by some of her peers.

She’s probably _somewhere_ on the spectrum, and most definitely had an anxiety disorder on top of that. But God knows Luka’s meds are already expensive enough as it is. Add in upkeeping all their music equipment for Mom’s concerts and their own interests, plus upkeep of their boathouse, bills, food and transport, and they were cutting it close.

Luka definitely has the more pressing condition, anyways. Hers made her weird and nearly incapable of socialization, sure, but Luka couldn’t _afford_ to forget things because of his ADHD. He was the one taking care of the house and keeping it in order since Mom worked almost every day at insanely fluctuating hours. He had to do most of the household stuff—cooking and washing dishes and doing the laundry and taking out the trash and cleaning the boat enough that they didn’t start harboring mold and fungus.

And on top of that, he had to take care of Juleka, too.

Juleka could…put up with it. Until they’re in a steadier situation, money-wise. They’ve gotten a record deal recently, that’ll probably help get them some extra income and—

Suddenly, a hand grabs onto hers, and she stills them.

“You were picking at your hands again, Jules,” Luka tells her softly. Juleka blinks, and then blinks again as his guitar is suddenly shoved into her hands. “Here, c’mon, work your energy out with this. I’ll click through the playlist you’ve got on here—”

“Don’t delete any of the songs there, Lu,” she warns, but dutifully wakes up her laptop—which had fallen into sleep mode—and passes it to him. Then she’s strumming a melody of a particularly sweet song she’d though Rose might like, playing purely by ear, messing with the strings every so often.

Luka doesn’t judge her for the ugly, fumbling notes she makes with his guitar. He hums a bit, a song completely different from the one she plays. He clicks through her laptop, making considering noises and playing a few of the songs to listen to.

“You _literally_ have a Halsey song in here…” he starts, turning to her with a gleam in his eye. “And _somehow_ she hasn’t figured out you’re in love with her?”

“That’s…” Juleka sputters out, hands stopping instantly on his guitar. “What do you mean—”

“Halsey is bi, and very blatantly pro-LGBT, Jules,” Luka says slowly, still looking at her pointedly, and. Okay, yeah. He _might_ be onto something…Not like she’ll actually admit it.

“…It’s for the aesthetic?” she ends up saying, voice a question.

“Sure, Jules. Sure.” Luka’s smile is gently teasing and fond, and Juleka doesn’t feel judged as much as she does _seen_.

He knows her way too well.

* * *

Time flies when you’re having fun.

That, or when you’re chilling with your little sister in mutual gay solidarity. Either way, it’s nearly four in the afternoon before Luka realizes it.

“You have any idea what you want for dinner, Jules?” he asks her, putting down his guitar with great reluctance. He was _just_ about to hit a breakthrough with his newest love song about—uh. His newest song about no one in particular, really, he _swears_.

But Luka knows that if he gets lost in music _now_ , he won’t remember to go make dinner. And if he forgets to make dinner, he’ll forget to do the dishes, too. And he has double the dishes to finish, since he didn’t bother with the ones from earlier.

His little sister blinks back at him, squinting at him in confusion. “…Luka, we barely ate at, like, noon.”

“Yeah, but soon enough we’re going to get hungry,” he points out, fiddling with his bracelets as he stands, hovering by Juleka. “It’ll probably be for the best to have food at least started, right?”

They could all have an early dinner. If they get hungry later, they can eat some of the leftovers, or just eat a sandwich or something. But it’s better to be prepared than not.

“I don’t really care what we eat,” Juleka shrugs in answer. “All your food is good, Luka.”

“Then I guess this means it’s fish time,” he jokes, reaching over to ruffle her hair, much to her visible chagrin.

“It’s _always_ fish time in our house,” comes her exasperated reply.

“Well, you’re not _wrong_.” Luka just shrugs at her. Sort of hard to dispute something that’s a fact. Their diet mostly consists of fish, vegetables, and bread or some other type of grain. Plus a _lot_ of orange juice, because their Mom doesn’t want them _somehow_ getting scurvy in the modern age. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Lemme help,” Juleka insists, setting aside her laptop and going over to toe on her shoes. “We’ll get done faster if we both do it.”

Luka smiles at her, feeling relieved at her insistence to help. He really _did_ have the best little sister in the world. “Sure thing, Jules. We’ll be done lickity-split.”

* * *

Luka mutters under his breath as he goes straight to the pantry for the root vegetables. He keeps repeating the ingredients he needs under his breath, lest he forgets, even though he’s made the same meal a hundred times before.

When he re-emerges, Juleka is standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen like she’s not exactly sure what to do, or where to start.

“C’mere, sis,” Luka says, jerking his head to his arms full of vegetables and smiling at her. Juleka is quick to rush over and help him, the two carrying things to a clear space on the kitchen counter. “Alright, first, wash and peel the potatoes and carrots. Put them in separate bowls, if you can. I’ll get started on the fish.”

His sister sighs, no doubt grateful for the easier task to handle.

The two get to it. Juleka washes the potatoes, and Luka turns to fish out—hah—a package of sea bass from the bottom of the fridge.

He sets up his work area with the little bit of space left at the kitchen counter. The bass were fresh, but he needed to go through the trouble of de-scaling, deboning, and filleting. It was a good thing this wasn’t his first rodeo.

“You need to teach me how to make food at some point, Lu,” Juleka points out after a few minutes of quiet prepping.

Luka blinks back at her. “But you already know some…?”

“I know how to _prep_ food,” she starts, giving him a pointed look. “But not actually how to _cook_ it.”

Luka darts his eyes away guiltily. “Er…Well…”

“I can handle a peeler and knife, Lu. I _think_ I can handle the stove,” she drawls, effectively peeling the potatoes with swift efficiency that nearly matches his own.

“I’m sure you can!” he agrees quickly, busying himself with getting rid of all the debris and bones he’s accumulated. “It’s just…”

Luka’s always been the one to cook. He learned how to use the stove when he was around six years old, when he was sick of only knowing how to make pbj sandwiches. There’s only so much microwave dinners one could eat before they wanted some home-cooked food.

Everyone appreciated it when he cooked. Mom’s schedule was always all out of wack; some days she plain didn’t have time to cook anything. Juleka had been a bit of a picky eater when she was a younger, too. Some days she’d eat the same thing for a week straight; other days she’d cry and demand for Luka to make her something specific.

Luka learned very quickly how to cook, because it was a necessity. Just like how he’d learned how to wash the dishes, and get Juleka ready for school, and all the other household chores he’s done over the years.

“Okay, how ‘bout this? You pick what style you want the fish to be, and I’ll walk you through how to make it?” he offers, grinning awkwardly back at his sister.

Juleka surveys him for a few long seconds, before a small smile spreads on her lips. “Yeah. Okay.”

“So, what’re you in the mood for, sis?”

“Um…Fried, maybe?”

“Starting with the hardest one first, huh? Very ambitious of you.”

“Er…” Juleka stops, looking stricken, eyes wide. “W-We…We don’t have to—If it’s too hard—”

“It was a joke, Jules,” Luka tells her gently, smiling back at her fondly. “It’s not super hard or anything, it’s just more time consuming than the other recipes.”

“Oh…Okay,” is her meek response, but she smiles tentatively back at him, which is a relief.

“Alright, go and get me an egg. I’ll show you how to make the coating first.”

* * *

Teaching Juleka how to cook is both fun and just this side of chaotic, it turns out.

It’s not that Juleka can’t follow directions. She just gets anxious about if she’s following them properly.

That anxiety ends up manifesting with her nearly burning herself because she was struggling with flipping the fish in the skillet full of bubbling oil.

She shrieks as the oil jumps and pops, splattering on her hand, and Luka instantly pulls her away from the stove and towards the sink. He’s quick to turn the faucet on and stick Juleka’s hands under the stream, wondering if maybe he should’ve given her some sort of gloves to wear. Or was that overkill?

“It’s okay, Jules, oil can jump when the pan is really hot,” he soothes, while she trembles next to him. “It’s gotten the best of me, too. No shame in that.”

He takes her hands out of the water after a minute to stare down at her fingers, turning them every which-way to double-check her injuries. “See, no burns! Just a bit of a scare.”

“Cooking is _hard_ ,” she ends up choking out, staring at him with wide and imploring eyes. “H-How do you _do_ it…?”

“With great patience and a lot of re-reading instructions,” he tells her seriously, “And some fuck-ups here and there.”

His joke spurs a giggle from Juleka, the sound sweet and relieving to his ears.

“You kids doin’ alright in here?” another voice booms. Luka and Juleka whirl around to see their Mom stride into the kitchen like a woman on a mission.

The noise probably isn’t what ended up summoning Mom into the kitchen. The woman loves noise, after all, as well as chaos. More than anything, it’s probably the smell of the food that gets her to appear. Specifically, of the fish burning in the pan, because Luka left it unattended in his haste to make sure Juleka wasn’t horribly injured.

He’d feel guilty for the food burning, but he already feels enough guilt at not being good enough at teaching his little sister and almost leading her to hurt herself in the process.

So instead, he just smiles sheepishly at Mom as she carefully fishes out the bass from the pan and dumps it on a wayward plate.

“Looks like ye can still eat the top half,” she clicks her tongue, “’less ya wanna extra crispy fish fillet on yer hands.” When she turns to survey the two of them, her eyes and voice soften considerable. “Ye kids okay? Got all yer fingers still?

“And toes,” Luka jokes, rubbing Juleka’s hands gently as she shrinks a bit into herself. “Just trying to show Jules how to cook. The pan had other plans.”

“D’ya need the first aid kit?” Anarka demands, jolting and standing ready at attention.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Juleka insists loudly, wrenching herself from Luka and glaring at their mother. She raises her hands for Anarka to inspect. “See? It’s not a big deal.”

Mom gently takes Juleka hands, turning them every which-way. “Aye, yer right.” She pats Juleka on the cheek. “Stand back and let yer Ma show ye how it’s done, ‘right?”

Juleka gapes back, stunned. Luka feels his eyebrows raise high on his forehead without his permission.

“Um,” Luka starts, feeling a bit off kilter. “What about the bills…?”

“Just got finished with ‘em,” Anarka grins proudly, smile wide and sharp in her mouth. “And a good thing, too. You kids coulda ended up with a hook hand or burned the boat down or somethin’.”

“It wasn’t _that_ bad…” Juleka insists in a mutter, but she lets Mom usher her to the side of the stove with no resistance.

“Lu, go and finish choppin’ the veggies. Me and Jules got the fish,” Anarka directs him.

Luka moves to do so, just a bit dazed.

It’s not like Anarka never helps them cook or do housework, it’s just…rare. Rarer than most parents, probably. But with Anarka so often out of the house, it makes sense that it doesn’t happen often…

Her help isn’t unwelcome, though.

With the three of them cooking together, it almost feels like they’re a cohesive family.

* * *

It’s nearly six by the time they all finish cooking and cleaning up their mess.

For all that Anarka liked keeping things ‘lived in’, she always made sure the kitchen counters were wiped down. “ _It ain’t safe or sanitary otherwise!_ ” was her motto when it came to food safety. “ _We can’t be getting food poisoning from being careless!_ ”

Cooking is a long and tedious process, but it’s much swifter with help. With a pang, Anarka realizes that she hasn’t cooked as often as she should for her kids. And when was the last time they actually worked on a meal together, all three of them…? Sometime around New Years, she guesses.

Well. She feels like a completely shit parent now. Her kids are happy so far, right now. It’s enough to distract her from the feeling of guilt. Just a bit.

She shoos Juleka and Luka off to sit at the table. “Go on, sit. I’ll getcha yer plates. Any special requests?”

The teens blink back at her, before turning to give each other a surprised look. It hurts, as much as it is funny, seeing them look so taken aback.

“Uhhh…I’d like extra veggies,” Luka offers, grinning back at her. “Thanks, Ma.”

Anarka nods, turning to her daughter. “And you, Jules?”

“…Extra rice with mine,” is the girl’s quiet answer.

“Comin’ right up!”

They all sit together to eat, her kids talking to each other quietly. Bickering about something-or-other.

Anarka doesn’t mind sitting back and watching them, for now. She doesn’t have to be loud and bombastic all hours of the day, on her days off, even if her kids no doubt think she doesn’t have an off switch. It’s just easier to get through the day if she pumps herself up and keeps a high level of energy at all times. She’s not getting any younger, after all. If she fakes it, she’ll make it.

“The food’s gonna get cold, kiddos,” she says eventually, as the teens pick idly at their plates, too caught up in debating about which one had the better mixtape making skills.

The two teens swivel their heads to stare back at her, wide-eyed, looking like they just got caught doing something heinous.

“Eat yer food,” is all Anarka says, smiling behind a drink from her glass.

“Yes, Ma,” comes their dual responses, before they dive into their plates like professional food eaters.

Anarka can’t help the laugh bubbling from her throat.

Her kids sure were adorable.

* * *

Luka insists he washes the dishes.

Exasperated, Juleka bumps her hip against his. “You can’t wash them _all_ yourself, Lu. There’s, like, triple the amount as usual.”

“It’s fine!” her dumb brother says quickly. “I’ve got it—”

“I’m helping,” Juleka cuts in. “And if you tell me I can’t, I’ll do it anyways.”

Luka pouts back at her. Their Mom snorts a laugh.

“Aye, I’m helpin’ too,” the woman says, much to Juleka’s shock. She winks at them. “Can’t go growin’ mold in the sink, now, can we?”

It’s…weirdly domestic. The three of them, actually washing the dishes together. Mom on scrubbing duty, Luka washing, and her drying. It’s not something that happens too often. Half the time, Juleka’s there helping Luka, knowing how harried he gets bogged down with so many chores.

Anarka doing any cleaning feels like a weird alternate timeline, but she fits right in doing it. Like she’s, y’know. An actual mom.

Luka looks ecstatic all the while, like a holiday’s come early. Something in Juleka’s chest squeezes. Luka…shouldn’t be this _excited_ about something as simple as getting help washing the dishes.

Juleka resolves to be a better sister in the future. There _has_ to be more ways she can help Luka around the house. Especially if even _Anarka_ is putting in the effort.

* * *

Luka knows Juleka’s been feeling _off_ because of their Mom doing Mom Things, but really, it’s a good thing that it’s happening.

Juleka has always had a complicated relationship with Mom. It must be some sort of mother-daughter Thing going on. Some sort of inherent, ingrained issue that Luka wouldn’t ever be able to understand, because he’s a boy.

That’s not to say that Luka _also_ doesn’t have a complicated relationship with Mom. Luka has one, too, where half the time he feels like he’s the one parenting his own parent. The other half, he wishes to be treated like a kid, even though he’s been acting as an independent person for far longer.

Either way, they all probably need to go to group therapy or something. But therapy’s _expensive_ , and it’s not like Anarka’s abusive. She might fail to be there for them sometimes, physically, but she doesn’t neglect them purposefully.

It’s just a hard life, living in a city as expensive as Paris in general. Plus you tack on raising two kids when you’re a single parent, and there’s a whole can of socio-economic worms to unpack...Wait. He’s mixing metaphors again.

Either way, yes, Luka and Juleka wish Mom was more present in their lives. Yes, they understand that their Mom has to work, and she _needs_ to, since they’re barely breaking even as it is. Yes, they’re hormonal and emotional teenagers, so that _definitely_ doesn’t help matters when it comes to figuring out feelings on complicated issues.

Things can only get better, though. Kitty Section just recently got into a record deal. Mom is home a bit more often. Jagged Stone is giving them a stipend, as he’s one of their direct sponsors, so their bills are getting paid much more easily.

Things are looking up! And Luka’s optimistic that as their financial situation gets better, the stress will be taken off the Couffaine family, and their own family dynamics will get better as well.

It’s been a decade in the making, but, well. It’s finally happening. They’ve weathered through a lot together as a family. Their hard work is finally paying off. And if he wants to be a little selfish in his thoughts… _His_ hard work was paying off.

All this time spent keeping their dysfunctional family together, making sure to protect Juleka and stoke her passion, all the while balancing school life and his musical talents? It’s all finally _worth it_.

Luka’s not going to toot his own horn more than he has to, but the fact that him and his little sister are as successful as they are right now is probably in part because of him.

“Luka. _Luka_. Lu?”

Luka blinks, shaking himself out of his thoughts at Juleka poking his arm.

“Oh! Sorry,” he says, sheepish, turning to look at his sister. “You were saying?”

“We’re done with the dishes, Lu,” comes her reply, slow and careful, looking at him oddly.

Anarka laughs. “Ah, zoning out again? Did you take your meds today, Lu?”

Luka stares back at Mom, mind whirring. _Did_ he take his medicine today…? He looks down at his bracelet—the one he notches differently every day to help remind him. It’s on tight, at the second notch. He must have, then; if it were loose on the last notch, it would’ve showed it slipped his mind completely.

“No, I think I have,” he says, looking back up at Mom. “Sorry, I guess I was just vibin’ too hard there for a sec.”

“More like probably thinking of your new song too hard…” Juleka drawls, making him startle. She’s still eyeing him cautiously, but less like she’s concerned that something’s wrong and more like she’s wondering just how lovestruck he’s managed to be for the past few minutes.

Luka feels his face heat up, but looks her straight in the eye as he states, “I wasn’t doing that _this_ time.”

Juleka raises her visible eyebrow in obvious surprise.

“A new song?” Mom asks, and he nearly jolts, suddenly remembering that it wasn’t just him and Jules washing the dishes. “What’s it about, Lu?”

“Uhhhhh…” he trails off, looking over at Juleka in a panic. Her eyes are full of sympathy, but her mouth is curled in a smirk. “Oh, just. Y’know. Stuff.”

“ _Stuff_ …?” Anarka asks, smiling wide, obviously catching on that he’s acting shifty.

“Yes, stuff,” he coughs, feeling supremely awkward. “Uh, no specifics. Spoilers, y’know? Ahahaha…”

Juleka takes that time to grab onto his shoulders and all but steer him towards the exit. “I’m going to help this disaster with his new song.”

“Well, g’luck with that, kiddos!” Anarka laughs, sounding delighted and proud. “Rock on!”

“R-Rock on!” Luka squeaks out, face aflame. He stumbles out of the kitchen and feels Juleka trembling behind him. “Jules, please—you can stop shoving me—”

“Steer yourself back to our room, then. You’re heavy.”

“I am _not_ heavy.” A pause. “It’s called being swole, Jules.”

“The only swole thing about you is your massive heart, nerd.”

“Awww, Jules!” he coos at her, beaming wide just to see her roll her eyes dramatically. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me!”

“Well, ain’t that just a sad existence,” she snorts, but grins slightly back at him, punching his shoulder. “Go on, Lu. Maybe we’ll finally get that song some actual music to go with it.”

“So harsh,” Luka laughs warmly. “Alright, alright. Thank you for your service, my dearest little sister.”

“You’re welcome,” Juleka says, smile turning wide and sharp. “You’re gonna need it.”

* * *

Luka sighs contentedly, finally setting his guitar aside. “Now _that’s_ what I wanted…!”

It feels like all the pieces came together, finally. Like he’d just reached the top of a mountain. All he needs to do is polish things up a bit, tighten some notes and pacing, and mix the whole thing. But he’s got the base track down, which is more than he had a few days ago!

“Congrats, you finally mastered the elusive love song number six,” Juleka giggles, grinning slightly and looking genuinely happy for him.

“Well, it feels great! One problem down!” he turns to her, smiling crookedly, shooting her a peace sign before only leaving his pointer finger raised. “And one more to go.”

Juleka blinks back at him, before her face goes pale and her copper eyes goggle out. “…Please don’t tell me you’re talking about me.”

“Mmmmaybe?” he hums, wiggling his eyebrows and throwing her a pair of finger guns.

“Lu. Lu, _no_.”

“C’mon, Jules—”

“ _No_ , Lu! I…I can figure it out m-myself…”

He clicks his tongue and hums, unconvinced. “Alright, I’ll let it go…for now.”

Juleka lets out a rather gusty sigh, obviously relieved. Luka can’t fight the swell of fondness at how his little sister still struggles with even the _thought_ of confessing to her best friend and long-time crush.

They’ll get there eventually, though, he’s sure. He’ll make sure of it. His little sister deserves to have a nice girlfriend, and Rose is the nicest girl around.

“Anyways! I think there’s one more problem we can easily solve right now, actually…” he trails off, fiddling a bit with his bracelets. “Of course, only if you want to.”

She blinks back at him. “Now I’m curious,” she starts in a drawl. “And that is…?”

Luka looks straight into Juleka’s eyes. “Coming out to Mom.”

His little sister nearly chokes on her own spit then and there. Luka’s quick to whack her on the back, hovering awkwardly as she struggles to breathe again.

“…Oh,” she eventually says, when she’s got her breath back. It’s said in a squeak.

“I don’t think it’ll be very hard, really,” Luka offers, soothing and sympathetic. “She’ll be supportive!”

“…Right. Okay.”

“But only if you want to. I don’t want to push—”

“No. No, it’s…” his little sister trails off, straightening her back, locking eyes with him. “You’re right. Let’s do it.”

The two share a determined look for all of three seconds, before Luka yawns, loud and sudden and jaw cracking. “…Maybe tomorrow?” he offers sheepishly, rubbing at his eye. “It’s getting close to bedtime…”

Juleka slumps, letting out a long breath. “I…Yeah. Tomorrow.”

He very politely ignores how obviously relieved she is at the suggestion of postponing their talk, and instead works to put away his recording materials and other musical paraphernalia.

Tomorrow, he’ll help psyche her up again. For now, they need to get a good night’s rest.

* * *


	3. Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done with this behemoth!
> 
> I really wanted a fic that went in-depth on the dynamics of the Couffaine family, as well as flesh out each of the individual members. I wanted to show them being human, being dysfunctional, but ultimately supportive and loving of each other no matter their flaws.
> 
> These characters have so much potential, but they're forgotten at best or used as plot devices at worst. They deserve so much more than that.

* * *

Luka wakes Sunday morning with a buzzing, restless energy running through him. Not only is he happy he’s finally made progress on his song, he also wants to be ready for later today.

Him and his little sister were going to come out to their Mom.

It’s not going to be anything complicated, he’s sure. Mom supported them in pretty much everything. So this wouldn’t be any different. Hell, he’s pretty sure Anarka Couffaine was the most laid-back, chillest Mom ever. At least, whenever he offhandedly mentions anything about his Mom, his friends always look at him with surprise. Kagami would look mildly impressed and scandalized in equal parts with his stories. Even people that have met her, like Adrien and Marinette, goggle at how unconventionally lax his Mom is.

Considering how strict Adrien and Kagami’s own parents are…yeah. He can see the stark difference there, the culture shock of it.

Luka shakes his head, dunking it under the showerhead to wash out the shampoo. He shouldn’t dawdle. If he does, he’ll lose track of time.

Since he doesn’t have school, he can make something a little more involved today than just eggs and toast for breakfast. Maybe making some pancakes will clear his head.

* * *

Juleka drags herself out of bed at the delicious smell of pancakes wafting through the air.

Looks like Luka went bananas with breakfast, like he likes to during weekends. Not that she’s _complaining_ or anything. Luka’s cooking was _amazing_. Her brother knew what she liked, and made it well.

Yawning, Juleka doesn’t bother with changing out of her pajamas, shuffling like a zombie out of her and Luka’s room.

* * *

“Flapjacks…! An amazing way to start the day!” a familiar voice booms across the kitchen.

Juleka startles next to Luka, nearly dropping her plate. Luka’s quick to help her balance it, already used to their Mom’s sudden entrances, and not nearly as skittish as his little sister.

“Hey, Ma. How many d’ya want?” Luka asks languidly, while scooping up the pancakes with a spatula, carefully depositing them on Juleka’s plate.

“No need, no need. I’ll make ‘em myself, kiddo,” Anarka laughs, bustling over to them. “Just worry ‘bout your own. I’ll handle the rest.”

Luka blinks, peering carefully over at Mom, who’s riffling through the cupboards for plates. “It’s fine,” he starts haltingly, feeling a bit wrongfooted. “I can do it. I made a larger batch so we could have extras later.”

His mother looks over at him, raising a brow pointedly in an almost chastising way. Luka clicks his mouth shut. “Take a break, son,” Mom starts, giving him a slightly sad smile that takes him further aback. “Ya always make the breakfast. Lemme finish it up, at least.”

“Oh.” Luka looks at Juleka, who’s frozen by his side, looking wildly between him and Mom with a decidedly off-put expression. “Uh. Alright.”

Luka turns back to the stove, almost automatic as he scoops batter into the pan. He carefully elbows Juleka, who’s still hovering by his side, silently urging her to sit and enjoy her food already. He feels Juleka nudge him back, before he hears her quiet footsteps padding away.

Mom’s there, handing him a plate, when he’s done making with his own stack of pancakes. He mutters a thank you, giving her a small smile, hesitating before stepping back from the stove.

It’s the third time that it’s happened, in just these past two days and it’s. Strange. Stepping back. Allowing someone to help him, instead of doing everything himself.

It’s also the second time Mom’s had the time to help in making food. Luka takes his plate to the kitchen table, just a bit dazed.

Juleka pauses in eating, looking up at him with her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk, a little syrup dribbling down her lips.

Luka takes in the sight, and laughs, setting his plate down so he won’t accidentally drop it. Juleka is quick to glare at him, and it just makes him laugh even louder.

Things were looking up, and Luka couldn’t be more relieved.

* * *

Luka watches as Juleka paces across their bedroom like a woman possessed. “Jules…” he trails off, amused and concerned in equal measures.

“I can’t help it, Lu. My fucking anxiety is twisting me up in knots,” she says, whirling to face him, her hair untamed and wild around her.

“Do you want a solution, or do you want to vent?”

“I—I dunno. Both. Neither?”

Luka hums, patting his bed besides him. “Why don’t I brush out your hair for you? You haven’t done that today yet, right?”

Juleka sighs gustily, her entire body slumping with the action. “I…No. I haven’t.”

“Grab your brush and whatever accessories you want, then.”

Luka waits patiently as Juleka wanders over to her desk, riffling around for a minute, before coming back with her brush clutched in one hand, and her other fist closed around whatever else she picked up.

Luka shuffles back, letting Juleka sit on the edge of his bed in front of him. She hands him her brush, and he takes it, setting it on his lap so he can carefully re-arrange her hair with his fingers first.

The tension seems to slowly leave his sister’s form, as he threads his fingers through her hair and hums an airy tune as he works. When she’s relaxed enough, he finally picks up the brush and starts to carefully and methodically brush it through her hair, starting at the very right edge and working his way to the middle.

A few times, the brush snags, so he pauses, carefully taking out the brush and untangling the knot with his fingers. After the tangle gets unraveled well enough, he holds the section of hair slightly above where the knot was, running the brush through it until it’s perfectly even.

Brushing Juleka’s hair is always fun, Luka’s found. Not only is it a nice sensory experience, it helps him do something with his hands that’s productive. It’s also an activity that helps his little sister, and a bonding experience, no matter how often they do this. Hell, half of Juleka’s hair care routine was probably Luka helping her brush and style it. He just thought it was fun to do. At this point, he was a pro at dying hair and doing frosted tips, practicing on both his and his sister’s hair.

If the musician thing doesn’t work, he could maybe go into being a hair stylist…

“There, I got all the tangles out,” he announces, after a few minutes of patient brushing. “What hairstyle d’ya want, sis?”

Juleka hums, running a hand through her hair to test the smoothness. “I dunno. I still want some of it loose.”

“Would a half-up, half-down combo work? Or you looking for something more specific?”

“That would work, I think.”

Luka goes quickly to work, parting a section on either side of Juleka’s hair to braid. Taking some small elastics from his sister, he ties them off. Then he parts the top half of Juleka’s hair, pulling it back into a high ponytail with the braids. He carefully slides some purple clips near her ears to keep the braids in place.

The bottom section of Juleka’s hair was still loose around her shoulders and down her back, for her to fiddle with to her hearts’ desire. He also left her long bangs alone. If she wanted them away from her face, she can just use the clips to do that.

“Alright, go check and see if you like it,” Luka instructs her, nudging her on the shoulder. He was proud of the look, but if his sister wanted something different, he was willing to redo things until they were to her liking. It was _her_ hair, after all.

“’Kay,” Juleka nods, standing up and stretching a bit, pushing her shoulders back and popping her spine. She pads her way over to her vanity, picking up her purple mirror, tilting it to and fro as she took in her hairstyle from different angles.

“I like it,” she declares, a growing smile on her face, as she looks at her reflection. “Thanks, Lu.”

“No prob,” he replies, smiling fondly. He shifts across his bed, stretching his back as he goes. “You good, Jules?”

After a few seconds, she nods, looking over her shoulder at him. “Yeah.” She sets the mirror back down, turning fully to him. “Yeah, I think I’m good.”

Luka stands, gathering Juleka’s brush and hair accessories, walking over to set them on her desk.

His sister is quick to grab his wrist, when his hands are empty. Luka looks at her, trying to gauge how she’s feeling with her body language and heart song.

She seems like she’s gathering her courage.

His guess is confirmed when she lets out a long, even breath, looking up at his eyes. “Let’s go and tell Mom now,” she states with determination.

Luka threads his hand in hers, squeezing it. “Alright.”

* * *

Juleka and Luka leave their shared room to start looking for Mom.

Their Mom could be anywhere on the ship, really. There was no telling if she was above deck, or in her room, or left The Liberty altogether.

Luka’s the one to quietly knock on their mother’s bedroom door. With no response, they move on to the living room.

Thankfully, they find their Mom there. She’s lounging on their three-seater couch, a book in her hand that she’s reading intently. From the cover, it’s a pirate-themed romance novel; Juleka really isn’t surprised.

The siblings awkwardly stand in the living room, looking at each other, wondering how they should catch their Mom’s attention and start the whole shebang.

“Ma…We have to tell you something,” Luka starts, almost halting as he speaks, awkward and a bit hesitant and very un-Luka-like. Juleka looks over at him from the corner of her eye, surveying, feeling just a bit worried. If even Luka was feeling the pressure…

Their mother instantly snaps her attention up at them, diverted completely from her reading. She sets aside her book on the couch to peer at them with a burning intensity that was, admittedly, a little intimidating.

“Did somethin’ happen?” she asks brusquely, looking liable to shoot up from her spot at any second.

“No, no, we’re fine!” Luka insists, waving her down as she grabs onto the edge of the old couch to haul herself up. “Just…”

Their mother taps her fingers against the arm rest, still leaning forwards. “Do ya need to hide a body…?” she asks, half-suspicious and half-excited as she says it, a gleam of wild interest in her eye. Typical Mom, really.

“No,” Juleka states flatly, shooting the woman an exasperated look. She was _always_ like this. It shouldn’t be a surprise anymore.

Anarka gives a dramatic, gusty sigh, leaning back into her spot on the couch. “Well, that’s both a relief and _real_ borin’,” she says, half-joking, a lopsided grin on her face. She settles herself in her seat, making herself comfortable, and asks, “Well…? What d’ya have to tell me, then?”

There’s a pause that falls on the conversation, as both siblings hesitate, giving each other a side-glance.

Juleka takes a deep breath, clutching at her brother’s hand for comfort. He squeezes her hand, once, twice, and she lets out the breath. She turns back to their mother, who’s sitting with a strange amount of calm patience, waiting for them to speak.

“I’m a lesbian,” Juleka states, feeling proud that her voice barely wavers.

“And I’m pansexual,” Luka says, voice steady, even lilting with amusement. The only show of his nerves was his knuckle-white grip on Juleka’s hand, her clutching back just as fiercely. “Surprise!” he chirps, doing a one-handed jazz hand.

Mom just stares back at them, one eyebrow raised, lounging lazily on the couch like she didn’t have a care in the world, completely unruffled. “I know.”

The siblings blink in-synch.

“Um,” Juleka starts, not exactly knowing what to do. She looks to her older brother for guidance, who just shrugs back at her, looking equally as befuddled, but like. In a chill way.

“You…knew?” Luka turns to their Mom.

“Aye,” the woman nods, pushing her glasses slightly up her nose, still wholly unbothered.

A long beat passes, as the siblings share another puzzled look.

“Uh…Cool?” Luka ends up saying eventually, sounding a bit awkward while trying to stay chill.

Anarka snorts, leaning forwards to snag her mug from where she’d left it on the coffee table, surrounded by a messy assemblage of papers. “Yup,” she says, popping the p, before taking a long and noisy swig from the coma-inducing sludge she called coffee.

Juleka jostles Luka’s shoulder with her own, not exactly knowing how to voice her questions, but trusting him to be able to ask them perfectly well on his own. He always knew how to do that. Read Juleka, and figure out how to speak up for her, when she couldn’t.

It was, like…One of his superpowers. Like him knowing when she got a nightmare. Just another amazing skill her brother has.

“How…long have you know, exactly?” Luka starts, quite carefully and awkwardly, obviously out of his depth and making a commendable effort in leading the conversation.

“Eh,” Mom shrugs her shoulders in disinterest, waving her hand about, red nails gleaming in the light. “A while.”

“And…what constitutes as ‘a while’?”

“Well, lesse,” she starts, smacking her lips loudly. “I knew ‘bout Juleka since she was, what, five? Durin’ the start o’ her vampire phase that never stopped.”

“ _Seriously_?” Juleka manages to get out, baffled, scrunching her nose automatically at the fact that she was so… _seen_. Predictable, even. After all, she got her goth tendencies from vampire aesthetics. Ugh. She hated being so _known_ by their Mom. It’s embarrassing.

Anarka lets out a wild bark of laughter. “Aye! T’was pretty obvious to me. Then again, it was prob’ly easier ‘cuz I’m a lesbian meself, y’know. Just more geared towards pirates than vampires.”

“I don’t like them _that_ much…” Juleka says, just a bit sulkily, her whole body sagging.

“You had Interview With A Vampire memorized, and ya have all the Twilight movies an’ books.” Mom gives her a very pointed look over her glasses. “Alongside all o’ Kiera Knightley’s filmography. Though, I really can’t blame you for _those_ , really. Her movies are all riots. Any lesbian’s dream films, really.”

“Are you only saying that because of the Pirates of the Caribbean series, or…” Luka starts, voice trailing off at the flat look he gets in return from Mom. “Yeah, y’know what? Fair.”

“And _you_ , young man,” the woman starts, leveling a painted finger at him. “I wasn’t sure what flavor o’ gay you were, exactly, but I knew you liked men since yer crush on that Draco kid from the Harry Potter movies.”

Luka sputters, rubbing at one of his rapidly pinkening cheeks. “ _Ma_.”

“That Tom Fiddleton—”

“It’s Tom _Felton_ —”

“Was a cute kid, though, so I don’t blame ya,” Anarka notes, smirking at Luka’s aggrieved and vaguely embarrassed look.

“Wow, Luka. You have shit taste,” Juleka notes in a mutter next to him. Anarka’s smirk only widens with the statement, while her brother shoots her a betrayed look.

“Shut up, he was a good actor!”

“And apparently your type—"

“And I also liked Katie Leung,” he sniffs, clarifying at Juleka’s blank look. “The girl that played Cho.”

“That…explains _so_ much,” Juleka snorts, much too amused with herself.

Luka groans loudly, burying his face in his hands at the twin smirks she and their Mom were wearing. “Why are you two like this...”

“I didn’t say nothin’, Lu,” Anarka drawls out, voice thick with amusement. “But it seems yer sister called you out. Nice one, Jules.”

Luka peeks from between his fingers to look at Juleka lazily saluting their mother, feeling cheeky and wanting to fuck with him. “Aye aye, cap’n.”

“That’s my girl!” Mom laughs warmly. “Keep your brother on his toes.”

“Oh, the love square he’s involved in does that enough already,” Juleka drawls out lightly, giving her brother a very pointed look alongside the statement.

“ _Jules_. Could you _please_ stop roasting me…?” he whines, grabbing onto her and pretending to sob into her shoulder. “I thought we were wlw and mlm solidarity!”

“We are,” Juleka snorts, gently patting his head. “But it’s still funny.”

“My pain is funny to you…?”

“The fact that you’re stuck in a Scooby Doo revolving door gag, but with dating options, is what’s funny.”

“My own sister…! Stabbing me in the back!” Luka declares, all but throwing himself off her, clutching at his heart dramatically and giving her puppy-dog eyes. “How could you do this to me…?”

Juleka took that moment to look off into the middle-distance like she was in The Office, face completely deadpan.

Anarka howls in laughter, slapping her knee. “Ha…! With how dramatic ya’ll are, it’s no _wonder_ you’re gay! It’s a hoot!”

“Thanks for finding us hysterical, Ma,” Juleka says flatly. She graciously lets Luka prop his elbow on her shoulder, who was now finished with his bout of theatrics.

“I mean, if you count our aesthetics…There really was never a chance of us being straight, huh?” Luka notes wisely, sharing a look with her. “Like. We both _look_ very obviously gay.”

“I guess…” she shrugs back, agreeing.

“Well, I’m glad!” Anarka states, smiling big and bright and shark-like. “I honestly can’t imagine either o’ you bein’ straight. Considerin’ who I am, it was either gay or bust, I reckon.”

Juleka shares a look with her brother, and they both shrug. “True.”

“I mean, genetically, there’s a higher chance we’d be gay since you’re our Mom? Or something,” Luka says, making a so-so gesture with his hand. “Something to do with genetics, but I’m not really sure.”

“Aye, it’s in yer blood,” Anarka nods, quite serious. “The Gay Gene.”

Juleka snorts, and Luka laughs brightly. “Yup! The Gay Gene.”

* * *

Anarka’s wide grin softens, just a bit, as she surveys her two kids. Resolutely, she places her mug on the coffee table and makes to stand.

“Ma?” Luka nearly surges forwards to help her stand, but she waves him off.

“I got it, I got it, no need for tha’,” she grunts, hauling herself up with just a little difficulty from the couch. She arches, rubbing at her lower back, muttering an “I’m gettin’ older and older…”

“You’re not old!” Luka insists quickly with a frown, like the loyal and kind son he is. He still hovers there, a step away from his sister, all but ready to go to Anarka’s side the second she needs it.

“She kinda is,” Juleka points out in a mutter, getting an exasperated and pointed look from Luka for her comment. “What?” she asks, defensive. “Ma’s not getting any younger.”

“Still, you can’t just call her _old_ , Jules,” Luka chides.

Anarka snorts and smiles, oh so fond, as the teenagers fall into light banter.

Her kids were cute little rascals at the best of times, but seeing them loosen up after the tension at the start of the conversation was…relieving, to say the least.

She _never_ wants them to feel like they can’t tell her anything. She’s tried raising them the best she could, on her own. Tried raising them to be kind and caring and open with their feelings, to go to her with any issue they had. Even if she was a single mother, she wanted them to know that they weren’t a bother.

She wanted to do them better than she’d been raised herself, stifled by both her family and society at large. Wanted them to never feel like they had to hide themselves, shutter themselves off.

It’s a big and scary world out there. And for as long as she was still breathing, she was gonna do her best to protect them, fight for them, and comfort them as needed. Even if, admittedly, she herself wasn’t exactly the epitome of maturity and sensitivity; she was as brash and wild as they came.

But she always tried. For them.

Nodding to herself, Anarka decides what she has to do next, to show her kids the proper acknowledgement and respect they deserve.

In a few strides, she’s reaching out and bringing both confused teenagers into her arms in a strong hug, effectively quieting them from their jibing banter. They stay like that, a quiet huddle, the kids no doubt startled into silence by the suddenness of her actions.

“Ma…?” comes Luka’s tentative half-question.

“Ya really didn’t need to come out to me, kiddos,” she starts, voice even and comforting. She rocks the three of them to and fro in her big bear hug, like she did all the time when they were younger, feeling an overwhelming surge of affection course through her. “But… I’m glad ya trusted me enough to do it.”

She lets the two clutch onto her, lets them hunch a bit to bury their faces against her neck and grab at her coat like they were mere babes again. And they were, still. Her little babies. Growing up _so_ fast…but still her kiddos.

“It’s…Well,” Luka starts, voice deepening with the strain to keep himself from crying, his words wavering slightly. He was always an emotional one, prone to tears often when he was younger, but he’s gotten a bit better at handling himself. It makes her proud, his growth. “It’s a bit of a relief, honestly. Getting it off our chests.”

Juleka hums along, voice thick as she mumbles an affirmative, “Yeah.”

Anarka can’t help but coo, rubbing the teenagers’ backs soothingly.

“Were you kids really that nervous tellin’ me…?” she asks, warm and a bit teasing, and so incredibly fond. She gives them one last pat on the back, before carefully disentangling herself from them. She shoots them both a wicked smile, grabbing each of them by a shoulder, jostling them slightly. “I mean, ya’ll _do_ realize I’m a lesbian, right…?”

Luka groans, laughing bashfully and bringing a hand up to cover his face. “I _know_!”

Juleka meanwhile, ducks her head to hide behind her bangs, ears pink as she nods.

“Then why the hell’d you think I’d…what? Get angry at you kiddos? Or somethin’?” she asks, bemused, fighting the need to laugh at the embarrassed thick in the air around her kids, a near tangible thing.

“That’s what I said to Jules…!” Luka bursts out, voice a near whine, eyes wide and frantic. “But then she started to get me nervous on it all—”

“I got _you_ nervous?” Juleka demands, snapping her head up to glare incredulously at her brother. “You were nervous all on your own, Luka!”

The boy sputters, flustered and pink-faced. “I just meant—well, you were so nervous, it certainly didn’t _help_.”

“So, what?” Juleka growls, swatting at her brother’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t’ve said anything?”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it!” Luka retorts, flicking her head lightly, “I always love talking with you, and you can come to me with any problem, Jules! You know that!”

“I _know_ , but I don’t want to bother you—”

“You’re not a bother! You’re _never_ a bother, Jules—”

“Alright, alright. No need to fight now, kiddos,” Anarka says placatingly, squeezing their shoulders with a snort. And promptly failing in keeping herself from laughing in amusement at their ridiculousness. This gained her twin looks of mild affront from the teenagers. “Ya both love and respect each other. No need to assert who’s better at it.”

“Okay…” Luka sighs out, grabbing onto Juleka’s hand again and smiling at his younger sister.

“Fine,” Juleka nods, sounding long-suffering. And yet, the edges of her lips were tilted up.

“…But as I’m the older one, I obviously love and support Juleka the most—”

“That doesn’t make any _sense_ —”

“Sure it does!” Luka chirps out brightly, smushing his cheek on the top of Juleka’s head. “I’m your big brother, so I have the bigger heart.”

“That’s not how that _works_ , Lu,” Juleka snorts, biting her lip to keep from smiling, and failing spectacularly.

“My kiddos…Supporting the shit outta each other, _and_ bein’ gay as hell?” Anarka starts, wiping fake tears from her eyes with a theatrical sniff. “I raised ya _right_ , I did. Best kids _ever_.”

The teenagers all but glowed under her praise, grinning at each other smugly like they’d just won a grand prize. It was, in Anarka’s professional opinion, adorable as hell.

“So…!” she says, letting go over her kids to clap her hands together. “Does that mean ya’ll want some proper merch? I know we’ve gotta lot o’ rainbow things, but if ya want specific flags and pins, we can get ‘em in a jiffy!”

“Please,” Luka smiles, bright and a bit sheepish. Juleka nods alongside him enthusiastically.

“Then that’s what we’ll do!” Anarka declares with a hoot, thrusting a fist in the air. “Jules, I can let ya borrow some o’ my lesbian pride things for the time bein’, but I’m afraid I don’t got much from the newer flag yet.”

“That’s fine, Ma,” Juleka says shyly, smiling as she fiddles with her long bangs. “We can…Buy that stuff together. If you want.”

“I’d love to,” Anarka tells her warmly, swooping in to bring both her kids in another hug, telling them both, “And we can see where we can find stuff for you too, son. I’ll buy however much you want!”

“Thanks, Ma,” Luka replies, smiling so hard, you could hear it even in his voice.

“Thanks,” Juleka says quietly, snuggling into Anarka and Luka both.

The three stay like that, in their group hug, for another ten seconds before they let go.

“Now…Who wants some rainbow sherbet for lunch?!” Anarka whoops, spreading her arms out magnanimously. “Getcha self the gayest ice-cream flavor there is!”

Luka and Juleka exchange a look, silent for all of two seconds, before they both burst into delighted snickers.

“Sure thing, Ma.” Luka smiles wide and toothy. “I’m up for sherbet. Jules?”

“Yeah,” Juleka says quietly, smile shy.

“Then let’s gogogoooo!” Anarka cheers, pumping a fist in the air, smile wide enough to split her face.

Her kids’ answering laughter was music to her ears.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how many character study and family-centered fics are out there in this fandom, much less for this family in particular. But they were a joy to write.
> 
> If you enjoyed anything you've found here, please don't hesitate to comment, kudos, and bookmark! Every show of support is a joy to see!


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